Borderline
by boxers-or-briefs
Summary: Ruthie has been having a hard time letting go of Martin. It's gone so far that she's seeing him everywhere she goes and he's always said what she wanted him to. But, when he comes back for real, will the words change?
1. Beautiful Illusions

**Disclaimer: **I do not own 7th Heaven or anything remotely affiliated with it.

Borderline

One: _Beautiful Illusions_

"Ooph."

She slammed on the brakes and, again, they were jerked forward, their chests being tattooed by their seat belts. He clenched his teeth in an honest effort to not yell at her. After all, this was her first time, but then again, this was ridiculous. Simon couldn't remember ever driving like that.

They started moving again but it was short-lived. He rolled his eyes and sighed out through his nose. She picked up on his frustration.

"You're making me nervous," she said, turning to look at him. "What's your problem?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "'What's _my_ problem'?" Simon shot back. "You are driving slower than an old woman walks. I mean, you could _not_ be driving and still we would be going faster."

"If you didn't want to help me then why did you _willingly_ volunteer yourself"" she demanded.

"I didn't," he replied, not missing a beat. "I'm doing this as a favor to dad. He said that if I took you out to practice, then he would let Rose and me sleep in the same bed at Christmas."

She scoffed and suddenly they were flying down the road with no warning, save for the petrifying screeching of the tires moments before. Simon tensed and screamed at her, "Ruthie, stop!"

Ruthie hit the brakes and once more his face almost met the windshield. "What was that for?"

She looked at him with anger and disappointment in her eyes. "You're still with her?" she spat.

"Yes. Why?" He prompted against his better judgment.

"_'Why_'? Simon, the woman is rude, selfish, annoying - you're too good for her."

"Oh, please. You don't even know her."

"Oh, I think I do."

They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Not one of them came to think that they were still in the middle of the road, however private or barren it was. An unpleasant siren sounded behind them and soon there were colorful lights to match it.

Simon broke his glare with Ruthie and looked over his shoulder. Sure enough, a police officer had pulled up behind them.

"You'd better have your permit with you," he said.

Even with an officer about to interrogate her, Ruthie still found the energy to throw anger at him.

"Don't be stupid. I have it."

As the policeman came up to her window, Ruthie dug her folded permit out of her jeans pocket. He was a man with a rather large build, who could easily intimidate almost anyone. However, Ruthie seemed perfectly calm.

"Can we help you, officer," Simon asked.

He studied Simon's face and then Ruthie's. "Do you have a permit?"

Readily, she handed him the slip and he scanned it. Satisfied, he handed it back to her and then turned to Simon.

"How old are you, sir?"

"Twenty."

The officer nodded. "You two are aware that you can't drive, even with a permit, if a person twenty-five or older is not present in the car?"

Ruthie looked at her brother, who replied, "No, I'm sorry, I'd forgotten."

The officer took out his notepad and began scribbling. "I need your license, sir."

"But, this is just a first time offense. Couldn't you just give us a warning or something?" Simon asked, desperately not wanting to get a ticket.

The man looked at him and it seemed like he was trying not to laugh. "No, sir, I can't. Your license?"

With a sour glance at Ruthie, who rolled her eyes to look away, Simon dug in his back pocket for his wallet and extracted his license.

After the officer had gone and Simon had switched places with Ruthie, he examined the ticket. "I hope you know you are paying for this," he told her.

"No, I'm not. I didn't know you had to be twenty-five. That's your bad, not mine." Ruthie clicked her seatbelt and sat back.

"Well, I forgot. If anything, it's Dad's fault. He made me take you."

Ruthie was indignant. "Oh, please! Dad didn't make you do anything. You only took me out so you could sleep with your precious girlfriend at Christmastime!"

"Well - well, at least I have someone!" In a falsetto he added, "'Hi, my name is Ruthie Camden and I can't get over Martin Brewer, the love of my life who doesn't love me back.'"

For a second, Simon saw a flicker of surprise hurt and cross behind her eyes but then it was gone. "'Hi, I'm Simon. I'm twenty. It will be illegal for me to drink at my own wedding, where I'm marrying Satan's spawn.'"

"I'll be twenty-one before my wedding," he shot back, as if that had any real importance.

Once again, it was silent and Simon wondered if he had gone too far. But then Ruthie shook her head at him and unbuckled her belt.

"Whatever," she muttered and got out of the car.

"Where are you going?" he called after her, starting the car.

"Home!" she yelled over her shoulder.

Simon drove up beside her. "Come on, get in the car."

"No."

"Look, I'm sorry about the Martin thing, okay?"

"No, it's not okay. You were right. He doesn't like me back. And he never will." Her voice quavered and for the first time he felt bad.

"Ruthie, really. Just get in the car and I'll take you home."

She snapped her head to look at him, her hair whipping her face. The sun was beating down on her and revealed the tears welling in her angry eyes.

"No," she replied, her voice low and dangerous. "Just get out of here. Go home to your fiancé and stay out of my life!"

"Fine," Simon said, feeling anger rise in his chest.

"Fine!" She ducked off the road into the back end of the park, shaded by dieing trees. Ruthie waited until the car was out of her earshot before stopping. With every ounce of anger, she scuffed the grass with her sneakers and threw her head back, a scream of fury escaping her throat.

She found a tree in a heavily wooded area and sat at the base, where she was hidden from view. Sighing deeply, she furiously wiped the tears from her eyes. Ruthie was angry at herself for letting Simon get a rise out of her, and then making her cry. But she wouldn't cry, absolutely refused to.

"You know that's not true," a familiar voice said behind her.

"What's not true?" she asked without turning around, unalarmed at the sudden voice.

"You know I love you. I always have. I just haven't been able to admit it to you," he replied. His hand was on her shoulder and she looked at it. Somehow, it comforted her.

She smiled and ran her fingers over his knuckles. "I know, Martin. I love you too."

Ruthie bent her head back slightly to look at him. His eyes were the most beautiful things she had ever seen and whenever she looked into them, really looked into them, she found herself never wanting to look away, even for a second.

"You know, I don't like Rose either," he said jokingly and for the first time in a long time, Ruthie smiled, even laughed.

"I think the only person who likes Rose, is Rose."

Martin chuckled. "And Simon."

Ruthie rolled her eyes. "Simon's an idiot."

"An idiot in love, just like me." Martin bent down to kiss her cheek. "You should get home."

And then he was gone.

"Martin?" Ruthie called, looking around but finding him nowhere.

There were no footprints in the dirt or broken twigs to show that he had really been there. There was nothing except the tingling of her cheek where his lips had graced her skin. With a tender hand, she gently brushed her cheek, broke down and cried.

* * *

A/N: I know I'm jumping around a lot on my stories, so give me feedback for inspiration to stick with this one! ;) Thanks for reading, guys! 


	2. Baseball

Borderline

Two: _Baseball_

It was Saturday, another "date" night. Ruthie sat up in her attic bedroom, away from anything and everything that could possibly bring her farther down past rock bottom. She didn't want to venture in the kitchen where her mother would, undoubtedly, ask her what her plans were for that night. Just thinking about how she and Martin would never be together was enough.

Ruthie was lying on her bed watching the sun be taken over by threatening clouds. She shivered as a cold draft ran through her bedroom. The quietness of her haven was soon replaced. There was a soft knock on her doorframe and her father came to stand at the foot of her bed. For a moment, her sort of stared at her, something she pretended not to notice, a look of sympathy in his eyes.

"How ya doing, kid?" Eric asked as he took a seat on her bed.

Ruthie shrugged. "I'm fine. Just tired I guess."

He gave her slight smile and patted her leg. "So, Simon called."

Ruthie looked at her father, wondering if her brother had said anything about the other day's ordeal.

"He says that Rose wants the bridesmaids to go for dress fittings tomorrow."

Ruthie expelled the breath she had been holding in her lungs discreetly. It seemed that Eric didn't know anything about the ticket.

"But it's December. The wedding isn't even until May... We all could get really fat by then," Ruthie replied.

Eric laughed. "I know Rose is being a little..."

"Anal -?"

" - impatient, but I think it's best to go along with what she wants."

Ruthie sighed. "Fine, whatever."

"I admire your enthusiasm. Anyway, I came up here to ask you for a favor."

"What?" she asked, trying to keep the annoyance from showing in her voice. She had planned on doing absolutely nothing that day but lie around and feel sorry for herself, as she had done every other weekend. She had gotten so good at it.

"Could you baby-sit the boys? Your mother and I are going out."

Ruthie rolled her eyes. "You mean, like a date?"

"Sure, if you want to call it that. We_ are_ married."

She sat up. "Yeah, you're married. You don't need to date."

Eric brushed her sarcasm off with a stern glance but understanding of her attitude and simply said, "Please?"

"If you must. How long?"

Eric thought. "A few hours. We're going out to eat and then walk around the promenade."

"Great." She slid back down on her side.

"Okay, thank you." Eric got up. Before he left the room, he turned around and said, "They've been asking to go to the park. Why don't you take them?" Without waiting for a reply, and not expecting one either, Eric disappeared around the corner leaving Ruthie to herself.

* * *

The field lights flashed on suddenly and brilliantly, highlighting the clear watery color of his eyes that she'd seen so many times before in her dreams. He had turned around to smile at her, coolly leaning on his worn, wooden bat. She took in the way he looked just standing there as if he were posing for something in his complete baseball uniform and the way the light hit him.

_"He looks like an angel,"_ she thought, smiling back at him from the metal bleachers.

He pushed open the gate that separated them and came to sit by her. Laying down his bat, he gently cupped her face with his strong, comforting hands and kissed her tenderly on the lips.

"No," he said, "You're the angel. And you're mine."

She felt her cheeks blaze with the twinge of embarrassment. He gave a small laugh and engaged her in a passionate kiss that made her lose all feeling in her body. Before she could even open her eyes, he had whispered, "I love you."

"Ruthie."

She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to stay in the moment. "Go away," she pleaded softly.

"Ruthie."

There were two of them now and they were tugging on her arm. "Let's go, it's dark. I'm hungry."

Unwillingly, she opened her eyes and sighed, seeing only the faces of her twin brothers, Sam and David. Ruthie glanced to her left, where Martin had just been, but saw nothing but endless bleachers. David caught Ruthie's longing gaze, the one he had seen almost every day.

In a completely innocent and childlike way, David asked, "Is Martin here?"

Ruthie forced herself to look away. "No, not anymore," she replied solemnly.

"We're sorry."

She stood and mechanically brushed off her pants as if she hadn't heard them. "Let's go."

As they left the park behind, Sam took his sister's hand and asked, "Can we get ice-cream?"

* * *

"How was baseball this afternoon, boys?" Eric asked as he and Annie came through the door. The twins had just finished shoving cookies in their mouths and were brushing the remaining crumbs from the table onto the floor.

David smiled. "It was fun. I hit more balls than Sam."

As their mother slid off her coat, Sam looked at him. "No, you didn't."

David rolled his eyes and shook his head but let the argument die.

Eric laughed. "So, you both had fun then?"

"Yes," the replied in unison. "Martin was there," Sam added absentmindedly.

David jabbed his bother with his elbow as Sam realized what he had just said. Ruthie had made them promise that Martin was their little secret when they had caught her talking to him one night in November.

"Oops," Sam muttered under his breath as he saw the expressions on his parent's faces. Eric had glanced over his shoulder at Annie, who had looked over her shoulder as she grabbed a broom.

David took his brother by the hand and dragged him upstairs to their bedroom, both knowing that it wouldn't be long before Ruthie caught wind of this.

When the boys were out of sight and their pattering footsteps had died away, Annie dared to move again. She sighed and stooped to the floor, sweeping the cookie crumbs into a dustpan all while shaking her head.

"I was hoping she was getting better." She stood and emptied the crumbs into the trash. She set the broom and dustpan aside. "I really thought she was getting over him."

"I knew something was off today. I had gone to ask her to watch the boys and she was just lying on her bed, moping."

Annie sighed. "You know, I am getting sick of her always feeling sorry for herself. There are people out there worse off than she is."

Eric dug the keys out of his pocket and tossed them on the table. "Her birthday is in a couple weeks. I really hope she snaps out of it by then so she can enjoy it."

"What can we do?"

Eric turned to face his wife, a slight feeling of failure in his eyes, and replied, "Nothing."

* * *

"Today is such a good day," Rose exclaimed happily as she pushed open the door to Simon's apartment.

"Why is that?" Simon asked without looking up from his textbook, though his pencil ceased scribbling across the page.

"Because," she pecked him on the cheek, "I've finally made a dent in the wedding plans."

"_Of course," _Simon thought. Every good day of Rose's had some connection to their wedding.

"I booked the band, I called the caterer, and made appointments for the wedding party to be fitted for dresses and tuxes tomorrow. Isn't that great?" Rose dumped her purse onto the bed and flopped down after it, a growing grin on her face.

"Yeah, that's great."

Rose's smile faded. "What's wrong?"

Simon shook his head. "Nothing. I just wish I could be more involved…"

She snorted. "No, you don't. Last week you told me that all you needed to do was show up at the right time. So anyway, have you told Ruthie yet?"

He turned around. "Told Ruthie what?"

"About Martin. He heard about Ruthie's birthday and he's coming down to Glenoak to see her. I left you a Post-It note by the phone."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Simon said. "Besides, I thought he was playing baseball."

Rose shrugged as she unbuckled her shoes. "I don't know. I thought you said they were really close friend. Why wouldn't him coming down to wish her a happy birthday be a good idea?"

"They _were_ really close." Quietly Simon added, "Ruthie just wanted to be…closer."

"Wait a minute…she likes him? Like, really likes him?" Rose asked.

"Yeah. She's trying to let go because now that he's a father, she knows that nothing can happen – at least she _should_ know that. I just don't think him coming to Glenoak is a good idea right now."

"It's a phase. She'll get over it. Furthermore, she needs to get over it because I'm not calling him to tell him not to come."

"Rose, if he comes to her party, it'll be a disaster."

"You don't know that," she said. "I don't know why we're making such a big deal about this. If you have a problem with Martin coming, then you call him. I'm staying out of this one." She pushed herself off the bed and went into the bathroom.

For the next few minutes, Simon couldn't concentrate on studying. Reluctantly, he glanced up at the phone.


	3. Pictures

Borderline

Three: _Pictures_

There was a bustle in the foyer of her house. Ruthie stood in a shadow on the landing looking down on her parents happily greeting Simon and Rose who had just arrived. As Rose made some comment about being thankful for somewhere to be on Christmas, Ruthie rolled her eyes and padded back up to her room.

On her bed she had spread out photos of Martin that she had collected over the years. It had started out innocently enough. Just this past year, she had taken it to another level and threw them all together in an old shoebox, which she hid on the top shelf in her closet.

"I feel very sorry for you."

Ruthie laughed as she began putting the photos away. "Yeah, I feel sorry for me too. A whole week with Rose is going to kill me."

He shook his head. "Not that, this," he said picking up one of his old baseball photos and pondering it. "I hate this picture by the way."

Ruthie snatched it out of his hand. "Okay, so I'm a little crazy. Nobody has to know." She placed the lid on the box and slid it under her bed for quick storage. "It's not like you don't have any pictures of me."

He shrugged. "I don't."

"Liar."

"I don't have _pictures_, but I have things." She looked confused. "I have that corny Valentine you gave me, a ticket stub from the movie we saw together, a blue bead from your bracelet that broke, the tab from your soda can, the glove that you still can't find, and some of your hair."

Ruthie's eyebrows rose. "My hair?"

He nodded. "You don't remember? And here I thought it was romantic. It was the day I was leaving and I said I wish I could take you with me. You said that I could and somehow, I ended up with a pair of scissors in one hand and a chunk of your hair in the other."

Ruthie grinned. "Oh, yeah. Now I remember. That _was_ romantic…up until I realized how much you cut. I had to go get a haircut so it wouldn't be so noticeable."

"And still you could tell," he joked. "It was uneven for weeks."

She narrowed her eyes. "You are never allowed to come near my hair with scissors again."

"Yeah, I got that impression when you screamed."

"You weren't supposed to cut that much!" she said as she laughed.

Martin leaned over her bed when it quieted down, and gingerly touched her hair. "It looks nice now, the way you have it."

Ruthie almost scoffed. She hadn't done anything with it. It hung down around her face, her curls giving way to mere waves.

"You grow good hair," he said.

"What?" she asked, but he was gone.

"I didn't say anything," Simon replied as he walked into her room.

Ruthie glared at him for a brief second. "Oh," she muttered. With her heel, she discreetly pushed the box further under her bed so Simon wouldn't see it.

"Rose and I just got here."

Ruthie settled herself on her bed. "Yeah, I know. I saw you downstairs."

Simon sat on the bed opposite her, the one that Lucy once claimed before she got married to Kevin. "Oh. Why didn't you come say hi to us?"

"I don't know," she answered shortly, reaching for a magazine from her nightstand.

"Why are you so resentful towards Rose? You haven't even had a chance to get to know her."

Ruthie raised the magazine to her face and flipped through the pages, pretending to read them. "I don't want to get to know her, Simon. I don't trust her."

He sighed. "Just because I'm getting married to Rose doesn't mean that I'll forget about you."

"Simon, come on. You forgot about me the day you started high school, practically. You don't have to worry about that." She turned the page.

"I didn't forget about you – "

"Simon, just stop." She had allowed the magazine to flop down on her lap. "The reason that I don't like Rose has nothing to do with you…except for the fact that you're about to make her my sister-in-law, which I'm not happy about either."

Ruthie got off the bed and walked toward her bathroom, but Simon stopped her.

"Then what is it?" he asked.

"You know, I really don't want to talk to you right now. I'm still mad at you."

"I'm not especially happy with you either. I can't really afford to pay your ticket."

She spun around. "Then just tell Mom and Dad on me. I don't care what you do, Simon. Go ahead and marry Rose! _I do not care_. Nothing matters to me anymore."

"I am going to marry Rose, whether I have your permission or not, but I don't want you to be angry with me for the rest of my life, which I'm sure you will be."

"Well, duh!"

Simon got to his feet. "What's your problem, Ruthie! Rose is a good person! I wouldn't be marrying her if she weren't!"

"It's all her fault! That's my problem with your 'beloved'. If she weren't friends with Sandy, then Martin would never have met her."

"But Sandy's my friend, too," Simon argued. "Even if Rose had never existed, it still would have happened."

"No, it wouldn't have. If Rose weren't there, then Sandy and Martin would never have had the chance to go off alone."

"You don't know that."

Ruthie grew flustered. "Why can't you just be on my side for once? Is this how it's going to be? You choosing Rose over me?"

"When you're wrong, yeah." Simon saw the hurt on Ruthie's face. "You don't have to make things so complicated, Ruthie."

She was quiet for a moment. "Yes, I do," she said, her voice low but surprisingly steady. Then Ruthie turned and the door to the bathroom closed moments later.

* * *

On Christmas Eve, after everyone had eaten and the kitchen was clean, Ruthie was sitting at the picnic table with her jacket hugged close to her body. It was dark, save for the dim porch light that was just short of reaching the table. She didn't know how long she had been sitting there, maybe and hour. No one seemed to care though, and that was how she liked it.

She heard small footsteps coming up behind her but she didn't turn around. A few moments later, David appeared at her right side, Sam at her left. One of them stuck a paper in front of her face.

"It's our Christmas present to you. Mom said we could give it to you early," David explained.

"Thanks," Ruthie said, hardly having a chance or the will to look at it. Having done their job, they went back in the house.

Ruthie held the paper out in front of her and tried to make out what was drawn on it. There were two people drawn, one with an abnormally large head, and the other with extremely short legs. Soon, she realized that she was the short-legged one and the fathead was Martin – and they were holding hands.

Ruthie swallowed the lump in her throat. She looked at the faces and noticed that Martin was smiling, but she was crying. Her eyebrows came together as tried to make sense of this.

"You still mad at me?" Simon asked as he sat down beside her.

Ruthie sighed, glancing at her brother. "I don't know."

"What's that?" he asked, pointing to her drawing.

She handed it to Simon. "It's my Christmas present from the boys."

Simon studied the drawing as silence settled between them. Ruthie rested her elbows on the table and put her head in her hands.

"He's a father," she said as if realizing this for the first time. "He's a father."

"Yeah," Simon said, setting the paper down. "He's an adult now. Well, that may be stretching it a bit, but he does have adult responsibilities."

"Simon, how did this happen to me? I mean, he's a _father_." She laughed. "It's ridiculous."

And within a matter of seconds, she went from laughing to crying.

"I'm so stupid," she sobbed.

Simon put a comforting hand on her back. "No, you're not stupid. You love him. That's all."

A tear rolled off the tip of her nose and splashed onto the table. "I do. I love him so much it hurts."

Simon let Ruthie fall into his arms. He held her there, comforting her, assuring her to the best of his ability, as her messy sobs called out for the past.


	4. Trustworthy

Borderline 

Four: _Trustworthy_

"Do we have to have this stupid party?" Ruthie complained as she absentmindedly played with a nearby stack of napkins.

Her mother looked at her. "You were so excited about this a few weeks ago. What happened?"

Ruthie shrugged, struggling to meet her mother's eyes. "Nothing, I just changed my mind."

Annie pulled the cake out of the oven. "Well, you're just going to have to grin and bear it because it's too late now."

"Fine." Ruthie left the house to sit on the back porch, grabbing her coat on the way out. The harsh December wind blew her hair off her shoulders and prickled her neck. She shivered softly as she sat down on the chilly cement, leaning back against a pillar.

Clouds had gathered in the sky, blanketing the sun and graying the world. Ruthie didn't care much. She didn't care that it was gloomy on her birthday. Somehow, it was okay; she felt she deserved it.

"Why are you so upset?"

She sighed. "Because, I was can't have what I want."

Martin sat down beside her. "What do you mean? You already have me." He was joking as he usually did those days.

"Shut up," she said, keeping her gaze locked forward.

He tried to stroke her curls, but she brushed his hand away. "Ruthie, what's wrong?"

"You're a father."

There was silence, then laughter in her ear. She glanced at him. "Why are you laughing? It's not funny, Martin."

"Ruthie, what are you talking about? I'm not a father. I'm not even dating anyone but you."

She was confused. "You slept with Sandy, Rose's friend."

His laughter ceased. "Seriously, are you okay?" He felt her forehead.

Ruthie slapped his hand away and jumped to her feet. "No, I'm not! Stop lying to me!"

He stood. "I'm not lying!"

"Ruthie?" Martin disappeared and her father's head stuck out the back door. "Were you talking to someone?"

She shook her head. "No, dad."

"It's cold, why don't you come in?"

"Okay, in a minute."

Eric nodded and went back inside. Once he was gone, Ruthie walked to the garage apartment. It felt oddly empty. The furniture had been removed and the walls were bare. She sniffed the air; it still smelled like him, like crisp grass and soap.

Ruthie walked to the center of the room. In a flood of remembrance she smiled and sat down, the quietness welcoming her.

"So, he's really not coming?" Lucy asked. She and Simon sat in the living room after cleaning for the party.

"I don't know," Simon replied. "He never called me back."

Lucy shook her head. "I would have liked to see him – we all would have – but if his not being here gives Ruthie a good birthday, then okay."

"I don't know if it's going to be a very happy one, but it will definitely be uneventful." Simon picked up Lucy's daughter Savannah off the floor and she played with his ears.

Lucy was about to respond when the doorbell rang. She went to answer it. Not expecting anybody special, she opened the door.

"Hey." Martin stood with a blue envelope in hand. "I almost just came in, but I thought I'd better ring the bell," he babbled.

"Oh," Lucy said, realizing she had just been staring at him. "You know you can just come in." She stepped aside to allow him into the house.

The home that he once lived in and had felt so welcome in suddenly felt foreign and cold. It felt as if an eternity had gone by. He and Lucy made their way into the living room.

"Simon, look who's here," Lucy announced.

Simon freed his lip from the toddler and glanced at the guest. He didn't smile, and neither did Martin.

Ruthie was upstairs in her room hiding out. Her mother had been in and out, asking her what kind of ice cream she wanted and what chair she wanted to sit in. They were stupid questions, but Ruthie knew her mother wanted to make this year's birthday the best one yet.

Ruthie sat, now, in front of her vanity mirror. Her appearance unsatisfied her. The way her hair fell in her face, the way her eyes were so empty, the dark circles and frown lines depressed her. Though this depression only lasted a moment, and she felt herself not caring again.

Her door shut with a soft click and she twisted around.

There he stood. "What's up?" Martin greeted her.

As if nothing had happened, she turned around again. "Not much. I'm hiding from everyone, but you knew that."

He shrugged as he made his way to her bed and dropped the envelope on it. "Actually, I didn't but okay."

She scoffed playfully. "Don't make fun of me. Just because I thought you were a father and all that jazz. It was a head injury, which isn't funny."

He looked deeply confused. "I _am_ a father. What are you talking about, head injury?" he asked, watching her.

She turned around. "Seriously stop. What'd you bring me?" she asked, nodding toward the envelope.

Martin found Ruthie's behavior odd, but tossed her the envelope anyway. "It's a birthday card."

She opened the card. "Really? I think just being with you is enough." A photograph slipped out and drifted to the floor.

"Ruthie, we aren't together. I haven't even been here for almost a year," Martin said as Ruthie bent down to pick up the photo.

Slowly, she flipped it over. Her heart sped up as the still forms of Martin, Sandy, and a bouncing baby stared up at her. She swallowed the lump in her throat, praying that when she looked up, he would be gone, which he had been so famous for.

Ruthie glanced up and instead of seeing her bed, she saw him.

"You lied to me," she said, struggling to keep her voice even. There was a hand on her shoulder and she jerked around.

"No, I told you I didn't." He took the photo from her hands. "Who's the girl?"

"What?" she asked.

"What?" Martin asked as he stepped away from the bed. "Are you okay?" He came to stand in front of her.

Ruthie looked up and both were there, side by side.

"You said that you loved me, that you wanted to only be with me, that there was no Sandy," she said, tears stinging the backs of her eyes. Martin, the one that didn't belong, began to blur with her tears, becoming transparent.

"It's all falling apart, isn't it?" he asked, his voice distorted.

"No," she protested. "There is no Sandy. There is no baby. You said so! You promised!"

"I'm sorry," Martin said. The other was gone and now all that was left was reality, and it was staring her in the face.

She had blown out the candles and opened her presents without really knowing what she was doing. She shoveled forkfuls of cake into her mouth and said "Thank you" in all the appropriate places. Later, Kevin and Lucy were the first to leave, saying Savannah was tired, but Ruthie couldn't help but feel she had run them off.

Martin and Simon had a stare-off at the dinner table, apparently, but Ruthie took no notice. She was much too embarrassed to even look at Martin. She wished he would just leave, but he wouldn't.

"I didn't really believe it until now," Martin said as he came to sit by Ruthie on the couch. A sea of colorful wrapping paper that had yet to be picked up surrounded her.

Ruthie said nothing.

"I almost didn't come when Simon told me about you, but I thought you'd be okay." Martin kicked a ball of wrinkled paper. "You are my best friend and I wanted to wish you a happy birthday." He paused. "I guess I ruined it, huh?"

Ruthie stared off into the distance, but she was listening.

"I'm sorry you love me so much. I wish I could love you like that because you are so great. I do love you though."

"Simon called you?"

"What?" Martin hoped she would say something, but this wasn't what he expected.

"Simon called you and told you everything, told you not to come?" she repeated.

He nodded. "Yeah. And I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," Ruthie said. "You have nothing to be sorry about."

"Yes, I do." The tone in his voice changed, and Ruthie turned to look at him. His hair that had grown long over his ears fell, curtained his eyes.

"I knew what I was doing was wrong and I did it anyway. And now look what happened."

"Sandy?"

He nodded again. "I don't even know why I did it."

"Well, the obvious answer would be you're a guy, but I think it's more than that. You wanted to be loved." She looked away. "It's simple."

"Maybe."

It was quiet again.

"Why can't you love me? And not as a friend."

"I don't know. Maybe I could if you weren't so short." He wanted to laugh, but her tense shoulders told him she wasn't joking.

"Don't make excuses."

"You're right, I'm sorry." He turned to fully face her. Gingerly, he pulled back the drape of curls that hid her face. "You are so special to me, Ruthie, and I love you and all you've done for me. But if we had gotten involved and it ended badly, I don't think I could take it."

"But if we were this close before, wouldn't you think our relationship would be strong enough to last? If you really love me as much as you say you do, wouldn't you trust me to be mature?"

He caught her piercing gaze but broke it. "I don't know."

She sighed shortly. "Thanks for the card." She got off the couch and as she walked away, she called over her shoulder, "Goodbye."

He watched her disappear up the stairs without looking back. He kicked the paper in front of him. As his head fell into his hands, he breathed, "Damn it."


	5. And So Do I

Borderline

Five: …_And So Do I _

It had been months since she had last talked to Martin, either of them. Days now were what people would call normal. She woke up, went to school, came home, and went to sleep. Days were nothing more than a series of routines to her and she lived them without smiling, without laughing, without feeling. Ruthie had completely shut down.

The Saturday before Rose and Simon's rehearsal dinner, Lucy had dragged Ruthie down to the church's mess hall to help set up. White, elegant tablecloths were draped over circular folding tables, single vases filled with lilac lilies sat centered. Rose stood as a dictator, a clipboard cradled in her arm as she directed her father and Simon, who were maneuvering a large table.

Ruthie rolled her eyes. She felt rather stupid for thinking that Rose wouldn't be there. Lucy sat down the box of cloth napkins that she had brought in. As she looked around the room, she put a hand on her swelling belly; she and Kevin were expecting again.

"Why don't you start setting out these napkins?" Lucy suggested. "There should be six to a table."

Without a word, Ruthie pulled out a handful of the folded napkins and carefully positioned them. Once Lucy was gone, however, she tossed them into their places and moved on to the next table, not caring if they had come undone in the process.

As the last of the tables went up, Rose's father said goodbye and departed for a business engagement. Ruthie had flopped down on a chair as Lucy and Simon finished up (Rose was in a heated conversation with the caterer on her cell phone). As she sat there, she observed Simon. He had changed so much since last summer and now he was getting married, taking on responsibility.

Too bad that responsibility was Rose.

* * *

She ran her fingers over the sleek satin skirt of the dress she was to wear in Simon's wedding tomorrow. The skirt was a deep red, but the laced bodice was white to match Rose's dress. There were no sleeves, but were it came together at the shoulders, red ribbons were attached and fluttered when she walked. The neckline came to her throat and the back was open, cascading to a point on her lower back.

As she zipped the dress up in its bag and hung it off the back of her bathroom door, she spotted Simon coming up the stairs. She sighed and rolled her eyes, ducking back into her room. Taking at seat at her vanity, she began brushing out her hair and Simon appeared in her doorway.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

He came to stand behind her and she saw his face at her shoulder in the mirror. Simon looked tired, but anxious. She pretended not to notice and kept on with her hair. Ruthie separated a section and rolled it into a fat curler, pinning it in place.

"I just wanted to thank you for coming to the rehearsal dinner tonight. I know how much you hate the idea of this wedding."

She shrugged. "Mom made me go, so don't thank me like it was a big deal," she said, grabbing another section.

"Well, you were there and that meant a lot to me." His eyes ran across her walls. "Something looks different in here. Didn't there used to be a picture of you and Martin above your mirror?"

"Yeah," she replied, her voice muffled over the bobby pin she held between her lips before putting it in her hair.

"You took down all his pictures."

Ruthie almost laughed. "You act like my room was some kind of shrine to him. It's not a big deal."

"Maybe not."

"Was there something else, or did you just come in here to critique my decorating choices?" she asked, halfway finished with her hair.

Simon sat down on her bed. "Actually, there is something else. I was just thinking about the wedding…"

Ruthie dropped the pin on her table and turned around, her free hair gliding over her shoulder. "Now, hold on a minute. If this is the part where I'm supposed to encourage you to marry Rose, then you'd better confide in Lucy, because I'm just going to end up agreeing with you."

He chuckled. "I know, and it's not that. I'm very confident in my decision to marry Rose."

"Then, what?" she asked, twisting back around.

There was vague rustling and moments later Simon reappeared in the mirror. A silver shoebox lay across his hands. She looked at him and took the box. Slowly, she opened it and the light revealed a pair of elegant red heels that went with her dress. As she took them out of their casing, Simon smiled.

"They're for tomorrow. You'll need heels to stand next to Martin." He set the box on her table and winked as he walked out.

* * *

Everyone, family, friends, musicians, the occasional person with nothing better to do, had gathered and had taken their seats in the community church. Reverend Eric Camden stood before them all with his Bible in his arm and a plastered smile on his face. He had tried to love Rose as one of his own but hadn't quite gotten there, and as a result, this day would bring happiness, but many tears.

The wedding party was in place behind the white, double doors and Simon took his place at the altar by his father, who gave him a pat on the shoulder. Just as the processional began, Ruthie, who had been mysteriously absent for the past ten minutes, rushed into position beside Martin.

"Where have you been?" he murmured from the corner of his mouth.

Ruthie linked her arm with his as he escorted her down the aisle behind the small flower girls. She grinned and nodded to the guests on her right, then stepped out a bit father than normal so he would see her feet.

"I was putting on your present."

He smiled widely. "I thought you might want them." Martin looked to her and Ruthie noticed she was almost at eyelevel with him. Her heart fluttered for the first time in months.

"_He's even more handsome from up here_,"she thought to herself as they parted at the altar and waited for Rose to make her entrance. Ruthie purposely kept her eyes averted.

Martin's attention wavered from the ceremony to Ruthie. She looked so much older as he watched her standing there on the first step, her gaze fixed to her father as he spoke. Her hair had been pulled back and pinned up along the back of her head, a few flirty strands billowed down her bare back, curling slightly as they went. Innocent wisps framed her face.

She resembled an angel with the way the light was hitting her face, bouncing off her cheeks and shoulders. But her dark eyes sparkled and drew him in. As he stood there, his hands clasped gentlemanly in front of him, he thought of Ruthie in a different way, a way that made his heart race.

And it was odd that it didn't feel wrong.

"And do you, Rose, take Simon to be your lawfully wedded husband, to cherish him in richer or poorer, in sickness and in health?"

Ruthie found Martin's gaze and held it as Rose said, "I do." Martin smiled at her before he looked away and Ruthie was lost in the eternity of the instant.

* * *

The reception was just ending as the night matured into early morning. As the guests emptied out of the hall beneath the church after giving a farewell to Simon and Rose, Martin pulled Ruthie aside.

"Come with me." There was a new excitement in his eyes.

She stared at him. "Why?"

"I want to show you something." He took her hand and dragged her up to the church.

The lights were off, but about five candles provided a dim light. She was taken away by how beautiful the church could look when there were no lights. Ruthie wondered why Simon and Rose didn't just get married in the dark. It would have been romantic _and_ Ruthie wouldn't have had to see Rose's face.

"What could you possibly want to show me in a dark church?" she asked.

Martin made his way up to the altar and stood where Simon had about five hours earlier. "Come here."

Ruthie trudged on tired and sore feet to him. He took her hand and led her to stand directly opposite him.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice suddenly meek.

He searched her eyes and smiled. "I haven't talked to you for months and I can't tell you how much I've missed you."

"I was hurt, that's all. But I'm over it."

His confidence skipped a beat. "'Over it' meaning you forgive me? Or 'over it' as in over everything?"

She paused, then, "Everything."

He took a step closer to her and gazed into her eyes. "Liar."

And before Ruthie could comprehend what was happening, she felt Martin's lips on hers. She closed her eyes, falling into it, but the next second, something stopped her and she pulled away.

He looked at her, confusion blunt on his face. Her eyes filled with water as she stepped back. Ruthie wiped at her face as the tears began to spill over and a minute later, she was running down the aisle.

"Ruthie! Wait!" he called after her, but she was already through the doors and gone.


	6. Hysteria

Borderline

Six: _Hysteria_

Bright sunlight poured in through her blinds and hit her rudely in the eyes, waking her from her restless sleep. She had thrown herself into bed the night before, upset over Martin, her clothes and shoes still on. Now, Ruthie found herself hanging half off the bed, the sheets wrapped around her legs like shackles.

Groaning, she managed to wiggle free, one of her shoes coming off in the process. She spilled onto the floor, a pillow following and landing square onto her face. Ruthie found the strength to stand upright, sliding the other heel off. Her hair was a complete mess with half of it falling over her eyes.

Sighing heavily, Ruthie trudged into the bathroom and forced herself to wipe away the mascara streaks, the smudged lipstick, and the kiss that stung at her heart. She had cried the entire way home and most of the night, refusing to answer anyone's questions. Once her eyes grew tired and sore, she had passed out in her clothes. She didn't have any energy to change and this morning her wrinkled dress had paid the consequences.

But she didn't care.

If it were up to her, she'd burn the dress and the memories that went along with it.

* * *

"Hello?" Ruthie called out when she entered Lucy and Kevin's house. It seemed empty, but there were vague rustles coming from the back room. Ruthie followed the hall to its end and found Lucy in the room on the right.

This was the new baby's nursery. They were moving Savannah into the room across the hall. Kevin had painted the walls a soft yellow and moved the heavy furniture into place. At the moment, Lucy was hanging a white, lacey valance.

"Hey," Lucy greeted her. She stepped down from her small ladder and admired her work before flopping into the rocking chair.

"Hi. Need some help?" Ruthie offered, fingering the baby's bedding that had yet to be put in the crib.

Lucy smiled. "That would be great. Thanks."

Ruthie went to work and pretended she didn't feel Lucy's eyes on her.

"Do you want to talk about what happened last night?" Lucy asked.

"Nope."

"But, are you going to go talk to Martin?" Lucy asked forcing herself from the comfort of the padded rocking chair, her swollen belly peaking out from under her shirt.

Ruthie made it a point to not look at her sister and played with the lace on Savannah's old baby blanket that was now going to be given to the new baby. Solemnly, she shook her head after a moment of thought. From the corner of her eye, she saw Lucy's shoulders drop in disappointment.

"Why not?" Lucy asked coming to stand at Ruthie's side.

"What would I say to him?" Ruthie asked.

The room fell silent. Lucy, who always had an answer for everything, was caught empty-handed.

"Well, what is it...exactly...that you feel for him?"

Ruthie sighed and abandoned the lace. "I don't know," she said. "I mean, I thought I was in love with him, really in love, but then he just confused me."

"Did he even explain why he kissed you?"

Ruthie took on an air of guilt, shoving her hands in her pockets and Lucy caught on immediately.

"What?" she asked.

"I didn't exactly give him a chance," Ruthie explained. "I kind of ran out."

Lucy was shocked. "Then you definitely have to talk to him! Today's his last day here. You can't just leave things like this."

Ruthie went on the defensive. "Why not? Why should I have to be the one to go to him? If any of last night was real, and he really does have feelings for me, shouldn't he be the one to come to _me_?"

"But he did. He made the first move and you ran away. You got what you wanted. Are you really just going to throw it all away?"

Ruthie had no argument. She knew Lucy was right. There were few nights where Ruthie _didn't _think of kissing Martin and imagining what it would feel like. But she also knew that Martin was a nice guy. He was her best friend, and he would do anything to make her happy. She couldn't shake the feeling that everything was just an act and a pathetic attempt to cheer her up on a miserable day.

Her hair fell from behind her ears as she bowed her head forward. "I don't know."

* * *

Martin was zipping up the last of his bags when she unexpectedly stepped into his room and stood stiffly in the doorway. He looked up and stared at her for a moment, trying to gain a read on her face. He was unsure if she was going to yell at him or cry.

Slowly, he straightened to his fully height and they stood staring at each other from opposite ends of the room. He took in how her cranberry-colored leather jacket made her brown eyes stand out. Martin was beginning to feel uncomfortable under her gaze and he awkwardly cleared his throat.

"I don't know why I'm here."

Martin didn't know what it was he wanted her to say, but it wasn't that. He pulled his suitcase off his bed and collected his jacket from the back of his computer chair.

"Well, I have to drive back up to school, so if you don't have anything to say to me, I have to go."

She stood firm. "Why'd you kiss me?" she asked bluntly, meeting square in the eye.

"You know why."

Ruthie stepped further into the room and closed the door behind her. He sighed and tossed his jacket onto his bed, preparing for what she was going say.

"No, I don't know why, Martin." Clearly, she was angry. "You told me that you didn't trust me enough to be in a relationship with me -"

"I did _not_ say that I didn't trust you enough," Martin interrupted.

"Maybe not in so many words, but you said it. You said that if we got involved, that it would end badly and we wouldn't be friends. I got the message."

"Ruthie, that is not what I meant," he said, desperately trying to keep his voice calm. "I tend to screw things up. Look what happened with Sandy."

"That wasn't your fault. That was entirely Sandy's fault. She was the older person and she took advantage of you."

He shook his head. "That's not the point. I just - I don't want to hurt you."

"But you _did_. You hurt me for months at a time. You hurt me last night. You've hurt me more than anyone in my life." She watched as flickers of guilt flashed in his eyes. "I don't know if I love you…or if I hate you."

"I'm sorry. Really, Ruthie, I am. You are the last person that I want to hurt. I _love_ you."

"No! Don't say that you love me, because you don't!" she screamed, throwing her hands in the air with frustration. "I know you don't! You can't!"

"Why not!" his voice matched hers. "Why can't I love you!"

"Because it's too late!" There were tears in her eyes but she fought them off as best as she could while catching her breath.

"I don't think so," Martin argued and kissed her but instantly, he was being pushed away and her hand connected with his cheek, the sound resonating seconds afterward.

"You know what? Just leave," she said, the tears finally spilling over. "Just go back to school and forget about me!"

Martin's cheek was still stinging from the slap when he replied, "Fine!" He snatched his coat from the bed and pushed past Ruthie, making his way to the driveway. However, the fight wasn't over there.

"No, I'm sorry! I didn't mean that!" she said. "Martin, stay here."

He was in the process of throwing his luggage in the trunk when she had changed her mind. Martin set it down on the ground.

"What do you want me to do, Ruthie?" he asked her. "Do you want me to stay or do you want me to go?"

Ruthie stood there, her face wet and shining in the sun, looking completely exhausted and confused. Her shoulders sunk and she fought off the strong urge to just collapse onto the cement. She felt like she had just run a million miles and had nothing left.

Heavily, she sighed. "Martin, I - I don't know."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" he asked.

Before Ruthie could even think of the answer, her cell phone rang. She pulled it out of her jacket pocket and answered as Martin looked on.

"Hello?" she answered, trying to seem as normal as possible. Having her family pelt her with questions was the last thing she needed. But her father paid no attention to how she sounded.

The moment passed and Ruthie ended the call. She looked up at her friend with a new, anxiety-ridden expression occupying her face.

"What is it?" Martin asked.

Shakily, Ruthie replied, "It's Lucy. There was an accident at the house."

"God, what happened?" Martin asked, fervently searching Ruthie's face.

New tears welled in her eyes. "I don't know. He didn't tell me much, but we have to go to the hospital."

"Okay, let's go," he said and helped her into the car.

He threw his suitcase in the back and jumped in. They sped out of the driveway and flew down the road, barely stopping for the stop signs. Martin stole glimpses of Ruthie and became increasingly worried from the paleness of her skin and incessant tears dripping off her chin.

Martin wondered how they got from fighting about something that seemed serious to something that was an actual crisis. Things were happening too fast and he wondered how these switching of severe emotions would take toll on Ruthie.


	7. Visiting Hours

Borderline

Seven: _Visiting Hours_

"I was just trying to get down the box of Savannah's old clothes and toys to go through them and I slipped."

Ruthie sat in the back corner of Lucy's hospital room while everyone else was crowding around her bed. Ruthie looked over her sister and knew she was tired. There were a few slight scratches on her arms and exhaustion in her voice.

The tears had long dried from Ruthie's face, but they left her to think about many things as she sat in that dank, ignored corner. Martin sat across the room and her eyes wandered over to him from time to time. Ruthie sighed, frustrated with herself. She shouldn't be thinking about Martin while her sister was in the hospital.

"I mean, I feel fine, but they insisted on keeping me here," Lucy went on. "I don't know why."

At that moment, there was a knock on the door that was followed by a very assertive "ahem." Everyone turned around and Lucy's doctor stepped in the room. In his hand he clasped a metal clipboard and on his face he wore a forced smile. Something wasn't right and Ruthie picked up on it right away.

The family was ushered from the room, save for Kevin who needed to be there. With a quick "I love you" and a kiss on the cheek, Ruthie left her sister, Kevin and the doctor to their business.

Aimlessly, Ruthie wandered the bustling hospital halls. She didn't feel like being around her family or Martin. Instead, she stopped by the cafeteria to grab some water and a snack. She found an empty table and sat.

"Ruthie." Martin's voice snapped her back to the present. "We've been looking all over for you."

Ruthie sighed, tossing the remains of her apple into the trash. "Well, you found me." She couldn't keep the disappointment from her voice.

Martin was quiet for a moment, choosing to ignore her tone. He just looked at her and an uneasy feeling settled within her.

"What?" she asked as she rose from her seat.

He took a deep breath. "We found out why they admitted Lucy instead of just sending her home." He paused, then, "She lost the baby."

* * *

Hours had passed and most of the family had eventually gone home. Ruthie's father had gone home to relieve Simon and Rose from watching the boys, who weren't old enough to visit Lucy by the hospital's policy. Ruthie had declined his offer to take her home as well. Surprisingly, he let her stay even though she had school the next morning. Martin was around, but at the moment, she could care less.

Visiting hours were almost over, Ruthie noticed as her eyes fell on the wall clock. She vacated the sticky leather couch and walked to stand in front of Lucy's room. Through the window in the door, she observed the scene inside. The light over the bed was dim as Lucy lie there with Kevin's arms around her. Ruthie's mother, Annie, was sitting on the foot of the bed and was inaudibly saying something comforting.

"Hey."

Ruthie jumped and spun around. Martin reacted to her surprise and stepped back.

"Whoa, are you okay?" he asked her.

She sighed and said, "Yeah, I'm fine," and turned back around.

Martin stood over her shoulder and peeked inside.

"I think I should take off now." He avoided the subject but Ruthie detected the uneasiness in his voice.

Ruthie looked at him. "Why?" she asked.

Martin found her question silly, but rattled off excuses regardless. "Because I don't really think that I belong here. I'd just be in the way. It's more of a family thing...and I'm...not family."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, you are. Don't be stupid, Martin."

"What am I supposed to do here? I can't help Lucy. I wouldn't know how. It's not like I can relate or anything."

Ruthie left her perch and flopped back down on the couch.

"And you don't want me here anyway," he continued.

Ruthie rested her head on her fist and kept her eyes on her lap. She was silent. Martin went to her but didn't sit down. He waited but she gave no reply.

He asked, "What is this, Ruthie? What are we doing?"

Her voice was quiet. "Martin, do you really think this is the right time to talk about that?" she asked.

"Maybe not, but you can't avoid it forever. Besides, I don't have time to wait around. I have to go back to school tonight."

"Don't be so selfish, Martin. My sister just lost her baby and all you care about is us."

Martin was taken aback. "That is so unfair. I love Lucy and I feel sorry for her, but I have issues too. At least I am taking _some_ interest in us."

"Hey, I've been there and done that. This isn't new to me. I've thought about us over and over but you didn't notice. So _don't_ tell me that I didn't take any interest!"

"You can't hold that against me. I didn't like you like I do now."

"Then why couldn't you have just liked me back then instead of making everything so complicated now!"

Martin took a breath. "Don't be so irrational. Besides, it has to be complicated because that's just how you are."

"I am _not_ complicated."

"Fine, you're not complicated."

"I'm not."

"Fine, Ruthie."

It was quiet and Ruthie refused to look at him.

"So...what now?" he asked. "I don't want to fight with you anymore."

Her hair fell away from her face as she tilted her head to look up at him. Her eyes were red and tired from tears and exhaustion and he suddenly felt a pang in his heart and all he wanted to do was hold her.

Martin held back.

It seemed as if she were going to answer, but before the first word formed on her lips, Lucy's door opened and Annie walked out. She smiled at them and patted Ruthie's shoulder.

"It's time to go."

Ruthie looked up at her mother. "Is Lucy okay?"

Annie's face grew sullen. "I don't think she'll be okay for a while."

"Yeah," Ruthie agreed softly and she sighed. This wasn't supposed to happen.

"I'll meet you at the car," Annie said, sensing the new tension in the air between the two.

Ruthie gave a small smile and nodded. When Annie was around the corner and out of earshot, Ruthie got to her feet. She pushed her fingers through her hair and looked at him.

"Just go back to school. It's stupid anyway. Thanks for the ride."

Without giving Martin a chance to respond, she brushed past him and walked away.

* * *

That night, Ruthie watched from her window as Martin sat in his car outside her house. He sat out there for hours. She knew he was debating on weather or not if she was worth staying. Of course, she didn't really want him to leave, especially now. With everyone being preoccupied with Lucy's loss, there would be no one to really talk to or go to for a break from it all.

But he left and she knew he wouldn't be back until sometime that summer for a few weeks.

Granted, summer wasn't that far away, but Ruthie didn't know if Martin would ever talk to her again after she told him that everything was "just stupid". She knew he was right about everything. She _was_ being irrational and complicated.

It all turned out to be her fault.

She sighed as she sat up in her room the next day. Maybe it was never meant to happen.

Or maybe it _was _and she just ruined it.

Ruthie threw herself back on her bed and cursed herself for being such an idiot. She didn't hate Martin. She loved him. And now with him gone, there was nothing. Everything would be so dull and colorless.

And she resented the fact that she needed him.


	8. Rain

Borderline

Eight: _Rain_

_1:06 am_.

The red numbers of Ruthie's alarm clock glared back at her as she sighed heavily and rolled over in her bed, kicking off the sheets as it was summer and warm in the attic. She had been lying there awake for hours waiting for sleep to come, but her restless mind kept it at bay.

Quietly, she pushed herself out of bed and tiptoed downstairs and out the front door to the porch where she sat on the topmost step. Tepid air breezed past her face as humble crickets chirped in the lawn. The neighborhood was quiet, blanketed by a dark sky with bright stars shimmering through.

Ruthie sighed and thought back on the past few months. Everything was so unfamiliar and uneasy. The Camden house seemed empty. Lucy hadn't been coming around ever since she lost her baby and it appeared to be affecting everyone. No one spoke much about anything anymore, just muttered their polite greetings and went through the motions.

The way things were left with Martin ran incessantly through Ruthie's mind almost every night when she lay down to sleep. Her tears had dried long ago, but the pain lingered yet in her heart. She knew it was over; there was no room for confusion.

* * *

He drove in the dark with nothing but silence surrounding him. His eyes were fixed straight ahead on the road as no thoughts ran through his head. Shock was still resonating throughout his body regardless that it had been a week since the news had been delivered in a pristine envelope.

He had lost his scholarship.

It was one of the worst feelings in the world. How was he going to tell his dad that he had been kicked out of school? It was all over an injury that he could not have prevented. It was unfair, but Martin hardly had the energy to fight it. Part of him wanted to accept it and just move back to Glenoak to be closer to Ruthie (even though he wasn't sure if she still wanted him like he wanted her) but the other part of him wanted to stay at school simply because of the fear of facing his father.

The car's headlights highlighted the barren street as he turned the last corner to his house. He glanced over out of habit at the Camden's house considering they lived just down the street and as he passed his eyes saw something that was out of place: someone was outside.

Martin stopped the car and waited a moment, studying the shadowy figure. He couldn't tell who it was or whether they were supposed to be there or not. As he pulled out his cell phone to call the police, the person got to their feet and Martin recognized the figure instantly.

He ripped off his seatbelt and shot from his car, running awkwardly up the pathway, ignoring the pain as his ankle was still a bit sore from surgery. She whipped around alarmed by the sudden movement and gasped sharply as he ran toward her not realizing who it was until he was standing a foot away.

Martin stopped and stared at her, trying to catch his breath. She was just as he remembered her. A quizzical expression lingered in her eyes and he knew she was struggling to decide if he was really here. As they stood there, staring each other in the eye, Martin frantically searched his mind for something, _anything, _to say but there was nothing.

Luckily, she was the first to break the silence.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I…came back for you."

Her lips tightened and she raised an eyebrow.

He laughed nervously and shoved his hands in his pockets and instantly he became about seven. Knowing that she wasn't a sucker for sappy lines, he expelled the truth, "I lost my scholarship."

"What?" she questioned, surprise evident in her voice. "How?"

He nodded down at his ankle. "I got hurt. I can't play baseball anymore."

Ruthie knew he was heartbroken. For as long as she had known him, playing major-league baseball had been his dream.

"Wow." It was silent again. He knew she didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry, Martin."

He gave her a small smile. "It's okay. It'll be fine. I just need to find out how I'm going to tell my Dad."

"He shouldn't get angry at you. It wasn't your fault that you got hurt. It happens. It's not like you're going to stop going to school, right?"

"Yeah, you're right. I'll just transfer here for a while and figure out what I'm going to do now…" His voice trailed off and it was quiet again.

"Well…I should be getting back inside…"

Martin reluctantly nodded in agreement. He didn't know what else to say. There was nothing. Before he could think of something, she was gone.

* * *

The sunlight was blocked from her bedroom by rude blinds. Lucy rolled over in her bed, her back facing Kevin as he slept a few extra minutes. His alarm would be going off soon.

Shallowly she sighed, her mind was blank. There was nothing to think about anymore, she just went through the motions of every day and kept things moving along without any feeling ever since she had lost her baby.

She refused to step foot in that room that never got completed. Kevin asked her if he could clean it out but she refused to let him. She wanted to keep it as it was until she was ready to let go and if that day never came, the room would stay that way forever.

Everyone had tried to tell her that it wasn't her fault that the baby had died, but she knew it was. It was she and only she who killed her baby; she was a murderer. Everyday that was the lone thought that inhibited her mind.

She knew Kevin was worried about her, along with the rest of her family, but she didn't think that any of the really believed the words they spoke. She had taken away Kevin's son, her parents' grandson, her siblings' nephew, and they all hated her.

There was a rustling beside her and Kevin turned off the obnoxious beeping of the alarm. He rolled over and put an arm around Lucy's waist. Tears sprang to her eyes as the familiar gesture reminded her of when she was pregnant and he would gently rest his hand on her belly. Kevin felt the small hiccup of her ribcage as she quietly cried.

His eyebrows furrowed and he sat up. She closed her eyes as he studied her face as tears spilled over onto her white pillow. His heart ached. Almost every morning he awoke to Lucy's crying and never to her smile that he had fallen in love with. Not needing to ask was the matter was, he shifted his body to hers and held her tight, kissing her neck and whispering, "I love you, Luce."

Her only reply was a sob.

* * *

Martin spent his day at home alone. He had called his father the night he got home on his cell phone. Mr. Brewer was apparently out of town on a "business trip," causing Martin to wonder what kind of local landscaping required business trips. He had told him everything and Ruthie had been right. He wasn't mad but he told Martin that they would talk a lot more when he got home the following week.

Mindlessly, Martin stared at the glowing television screen and flipped through channels. Rain pattered on the windowpane as the sky grew dim with clouds and night. Suddenly, there was a hesitant knock on his door.

Slightly irritated, Martin forced himself to get off the couch. He was in no mood to deal with people.

The only exception was standing soaking wet on his front porch.

"Ruthie."

She looked up at him, shivering. "Can I come in?" she asked, and he instantly felt stupid.

"Yeah, of course." He stepped aside and went to grab the blanket from the couch he had been cuddled up with and threw it around her shoulders to warm her up. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I told my parents I was sleeping over at a friend's house."

He chuckled. "What are you going to do when you leave here?"

For a moment, she stood completely still then sighed. "I didn't think of that. I just wanted to see you again."

He smiled and brushed the dripping wet hair from her face. "Why don't you stay here?"

Ruthie looked up at him and studied his face. "Are you sure?" she asked, biting her lower lip.

"Sure, why not? My Dad isn't here."

Ruthie's expression softened and she actually smiled. Nodding, she replied, "Okay."

As they stood there in the foyer, a puddle of rain at Ruthie's feet, Martin clasped his hands with hers and kissed her. This time, she didn't pull away.


	9. Leaving it all Behind

Borderline

Nine:_Leaving it all Behind_

Her head spun as her lips found his and his hand was suddenly on her back, on her neck, in her sopping locks of flattened curls. This was right. This moment, this man, was right. Nothing felt uncomfortable like she had imagined it would with every step she took on her journey right up to his front door.

The blanket fell silently from her shoulders and the rain continued to fall outside, a gloomy picture of dusk and dark clouds framed in the open doorway that she had been so afraid to walk through. Martin sighed blissfully and his warm, sweet breath fell on her face as the kiss was still unbroken. He shifted her around and discreetly closed the front door. Guiding her through the foyer, they found their way into the living room where a fire had been burning.

Martin stopped just short of reaching the couch when he pulled away to take in her beautiful face. He smiled softly and traced the curve of her cheek with the palm of his hand.

"I missed you so much," he said, looking into her eyes and watched as she blushed and couldn't help but smile.

Her voice came out as a hoarse whisper, "I missed you, too, Martin."

He smiled. "I hoped you did."

Martin took her around the waist and kissed her once again. His hands found hers by her side and he held them tight. Somehow, they comforted her, told her that everything was going to be okay simply because they were together. He took a seat on the couch and she followed.

He held her close, holding her head to his chest like she was his most valuable possession in the world. "Ruthie, I love you so much."

Her heart skipped a beat and the butterflies flew in her stomach. She looked up at him and caught his gaze, the fire's reflection dancing in his eyes. "I love you, too." Ruthie tenderly touched her hand to the back of his neck and pulled him close. She kissed him, not thinking about what would happen next. It didn't matter anyway. The only thing that mattered was that she was in love with Martin Brewer and he loved her back.

Everything in the world, everything she had ever experienced, everything in her past was completely erased and they were the only things the existed at that moment. She was completely happy. Never once could she remember ever feeling so elated in her life and she could make no mistakes. Every wrong would be right.

Suddenly she was in control and he made no attempt to stop her. She felt like a different person now that he was back. He had been her only escape from everything in her life and he was the only one she could go to, real or imaginary.

She had to admit, though, the real Martin was much more comforting.

Ruthie closed her eyes, blocking the glow from the television and ran her hands through his dark hair. He shifted on the couch and leaned backwards to lie down. Without stopping to think about what she was doing, without caring either way, she followed him down and the ends of her wet tendrils were falling on his smooth face.

The embers from the fire crackled as Ruthie traced her fingers along the buttons on Martin's shirt. It was then that he opened his eyes and softly asked:

"What are we doing?"

Ruthie stopped and looked at his eyes that clearly held confusion. She pushed his hair back and replied in a voice as sweet as her smile, "I'm ready, Martin. Nothing else matters. I want you and only you. I'm ready to be yours."

"But what about –"

She put a finger to his lips and quieted his thought. "Nothing else matters," she repeated.

Martin studied her face and focused on her eyes. They were so sure he couldn't find any words in rebuttal. Instead, he tucked her hair behind her ears.

"Are you sure?"

Quietly, she nodded and leaned in to kiss him. He didn't object.

* * *

Ruthie squinted in the morning sunlight, unaware of her surroundings, only briefly disoriented. She was in Martin's bed and he was sound asleep beside her, shirtless with the blanket covering his bottom half. With a glance at the bedside clock, it told her it was almost nine o'clock.

She pushed herself up and out of bed, grabbing the throw blanket Martin had offered her last night when she had first arrived from the end of the bed. Walking over to his window, she pulled the curtains and opened the blinds. Pulling the blanket over her shoulders, she watched through the window as the kids across the street were already up and riding their bikes around their driveway.

The clouds had cleared and the sun shone brightly down upon her. It was going to be a beautiful day.

Martin stirred in the bed behind her and she turned. He was sitting up and looked as if he had been studying her.

"Are you alright?" he asked in his morning scratchy voice.

She smiled and nodded. "Yes, I'm fine." She walked over to him and eased down onto the bed.

"I hope I didn't hurt you too badly."

She shook her head. "No, you didn't. You were perfect." Leaning over, she kissed him. "I love you."

He chuckled. "You look good in my clothes."

She looked down at herself in a gray T-shirt and black sweat pants. "Oh," she giggled. "I hope you don't mind. Mine are still wet." She nodded to the pile of her clothes on the floor in the corner.

"Not at all."

He got out of bed and gathered her clothes in one arm. His phone had fallen out of his pants pocket and landed on the floor. Quickly he checked it before he went to toss her clothes in the drier. There was a missed call early that morning from his father's cell phone but he hadn't left a message. He dialed the number back as he turned the drier on low.

"Hello?"

"Dad? Hey it's Martin. You called?"

Mr. Brewer cleared his throat. "Yeah, I wanted to let you know that I'm going to be staying a little longer than expected."

His father's voice sounded strange.

"Okay…Are you alright? You sound weird."

Mr. Brewer laughed. "Son, I'm fine."

There was someone in the background. A woman. She giggled.

"Who is that, Dad?" Martin asked, his eyebrows furrowing and his heart speeding up.

"No one, son - A business partner."

Martin could hear the faultiness in his father's voice. He was lying. To prove his point, the woman was purring something in the background that Martin was sure sounded like "Come on, Sweetie, come back to bed."

"Dad, what are you doing? Who is she? _Don't_ lie to me!" Martin felt his anger boil.

"No one, Martin. I have to go, I'll talk to you later, okay? I love you, son. Goodbye."

"But, Dad, wait –"

It was too late. There was an indefinite click and his father's voice was gone. He held the phone in a shaky hand and just stared at the screen that repeatedly flashed "Call ended."

Autonomously, Martin made his way back to his room where Ruthie was waiting for him. She had been standing in front of his bookshelf looking at old photographs from his baseball days when she heard him come to stand in the doorway.

Her smiled instantly faded from her face and she became worried.

"Martin, what's wrong?" she asked as she walked over to him.

For the first time, he looked up from his phone and into her apprehensive eyes.

For a moment, he thought he was going to be sick. His voice was repressed by the horrible reoccurring sound of that woman's voice in the background in his mind. It was several seconds before he found it again.

"I think my dad has a girlfriend."

Ruthie's heart sank. "What?" she asked, unable to hide the surprise from her voice. "He told you that?"

"No. I heard her," he managed. He averted his eyes. "They were in bed together."

Ruthie's jaw dropped. "Oh, Martin, I'm so sorry. I can't imagine…"

He let his phone drop to the floor and allowed himself to be held. Martin pressed his face into Ruthie's hair along her neck. She put her arms around him and held him tight. There was nothing she could think of to say to comfort him. Ruthie couldn't discern if he was crying or just in shock as they stood there for a moment and then it became a windstorm in his room.

Martin suddenly pulled away from her without warning and stormed around his room, cursing his father and that "tramp" in his bed. He went to his bookshelf where she had stood just minutes before and wiped his arm across in one swift motion. All the picture frames tumbled loudly to the floor.

He screamed with rage and raced to the wall where a picture hung of his father and mother and baby version of himself and ripped it from its place.

"Martin, please stop," Ruthie pleaded with tears in her eyes. She was afraid to touch him.

He seemed to not have heard her, seemed to have forgotten that she was even there at all. Martin hurled the picture frame at the opposite wall, forcing Ruthie to dash out of the way as it hurtled through the air and smashed on the wall behind her. She screamed at the loud sound and glass shattered and fell to the floor.

"Martin, stop!"

He finally stood still and looked at her, his chest rising and falling violently as it cried for air in all his fury. He had become a different person, someone she didn't know at all.

"No, you don't understand!" he shouted at her. "My mother is dead! My _mother_ is the one he is supposed to love! He can't be with another woman! He is a man of the military! You'd think he'd be the one to know the most about _respect_!" The word was spit from his mouth with so much disdain, Ruthie was afraid to say anything more. She waited, but nothing else was spoken.

"I'm sorry," she whispered from the other side of the room. She hugged her arms tight to her chest as tears rolled down her face. Martin had never been like this around her, and she never thought in a million years that he had a temper as bad as this.

He exhaled a sigh of desperation and slumped onto his bed, assuming the Thinker position, his head in the palm of his hand. Then the tears came.

Ruthie watched from a distance, her heart sinking lower and lower into pits of darkness. She couldn't stand seeing Martin this way. He was supposed to be the one that comforted _her_. He had gotten so good at it, he knew just what to say. Ruthie, however, was totally and utterly lost.

Seeing his broken form made her go to him and hold him. She pushed his head into her chest as a mother would do and held him tight. Caressing the back of his neck, she whispered in his ear continuously with every sob, "It's okay. You'll be okay. I love you."

"What about my mom?" he asked between shaky breaths. "I think about her every day. I miss her so much. I thought she was the only one my dad could ever love, ever touch, ever kiss."

"I'm sure your dad still loves your mom, Martin. It's just time to move on. He must be really lonely."

"But how can he just forget about her like that? He promised to love her forever. He _promised_."

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He put his hands around her back as she kneeled in front of him on the floor. She tightened her hold on him. "I love you."


End file.
